Page 38 of Say Yes to the Hot Mess
“What were they for?” she asks, pulling the now-empty bottle out of Archer’s mouth with a littlepop.
“Uh,” I say, watching as she slowly lowers him into his carseat. “Just a little…problemwe’ve been having.”
“What problem?” she says without looking at me. She buckles the sleeping Archer in place and then sits back up and turns to me, her face twisting into a concerned frown. “A problem here? In Sunset Horizons?”
“Unfortunately,” I say. “Someone has been selling some of the residents—” Crap. I don’t want to have this conversation, but I’ve already started talking, so I guess I’ll just keep going. “Someone has been selling them unauthorized medication. One man almost died because it interacted badly with another medicine he was taking.”
Maya’s frown deepens. “That’s horrible. What medicine? Where’s it coming from?”
“Viagra,” I say, trying not to speak too loudly. “And I don’t know where it’s coming from; that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
Her eyebrows shoot up; her jaw drops. “Viagra? Really?” Then she laughs. “Wow. I…would not have guessed that.”
I give up on holding my smile back. “It was unexpected,” I admit. “And I’ve talked to a few residents about it, but so far no one knows who’s selling the pills, or at least no one is willing to say anything.”
“Hmm,” Maya says, a crease appearing between her brows as she thinks. “Well, they might be advertising somewhere. I mean, maybe it’s all just word of mouth, in which case I don’t know what to tell you. But if they’re advertising, I’d check the bulletin boards.” She gestures around the room, and my eyes jump to the room’s two large bulletin boards.
“Huh,” I say. I did check the bulletin boards, but not thoroughly, and not for anything specific; I just looked at them when I was putting up my own flyers. “That’s…not a bad idea.”
Maya rolls her eyes. “I know it’s not. Stop sounding surprised. I’m smart, Dex. I may have made some dumb decisions in my life, and I may have put my faith in some questionable practices, but I’m not stupid.”
“I never thought you were,” I say quickly. Then, because I can’t help it, I ask, “Questionable practices?”
She bites her lip, looking suddenly self-conscious. Her nonchalant shrug seems a little forced as she says, “I was kind of into the astrology thing for a while.”
Interesting. “What changed?”
This time her shrug is more natural. “I had Archer. And I realized that checking my child’s horoscope wasn’t something I wanted to do. I guess I was willing to search my own life for fate and signs, but when it comes to him…” She trails off, shaking her head. “No. No fate. I will work my butt off to make sure he has everything he needs in life, and we will make our own fates. I’m not trusting his life or well-being to the universe.”
I nod slowly, digesting this. It’s yet another layer to this frankly baffling woman, and I can admit to myself that I’m having fun learning things about her. Especially because she keeps surprising me.
And I meant what I said earlier, for the most part—I really never thought she wasstupid.But after our very first interaction, I may have labeled her in my mind as someone without a lot of substance—maybe because of how openly emotional she was? It’s a trait I tend to associate with less-cultured individuals, probably because overt bursts of emotion were always sort of frowned upon in my family.
I didn’t think she had much substance, but I was wrong. Completely wrong.
Another kick of guilt, stronger this time, grows inside me, wrapping itself around my ribs. It’s official: I’m way too judgmental, and a complete jerk.
And I need to start fresh with Maya. But how do I do that?
Nine
Dex
I decideto wait until I’m done eating to look at the bulletin boards for any sort of advertising our pill-seller might have left behind.
“Okay, I’m going to check out the boards now,” I say to Maya when I’ve finished, pushing my empty plastic container aside and standing up. “Want to come?”
She looks surprised but says, “Yeah.” She scoots out of her seat and then follows me, casting a glance over her shoulder at the now-sleeping Archer.
The first bulletin board is pretty empty. There’s one of my flyers—I point it out, and Maya just shakes her head—as well as a note about the weekly bingo nights. Nothing there is suspicious, unless bingo night at Sunset Horizons getsreallyraunchy. So we move to the next bulletin board, which is much bigger and more centralized on a different wall. This is clearly the one most people use.
Once again, there are several of my flyers, and the same sign about bingo night. There are also several brightly colored flyers about book club, a walking group, and a quilting group. A few other flyers in various shades of yellows, pinks, and blues all note personal items for sale or for hire—seamstress services, gently used toys, a treadmill—but nothing stands out as suspicious.
“Hey,” Maya says slowly from the other end of the bulletin board. “Look at this.”
I glance over, squinting at the small piece of paper she’s pointing at. I move closer to get a better look.
It’s brown, the same color as the bulletin board, and it’s only half a sheet of paper. I would have missed it if she hadn’t pointed it out.
